


Meet Me

by nazgularepeopletoo



Series: Modern AU Winnant/Bolton :3 [1]
Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazgularepeopletoo/pseuds/nazgularepeopletoo
Summary: Just a quick little piece of fluff for the Dunkirk writing challenge!
Relationships: Colonel Winnant/Commander Bolton
Series: Modern AU Winnant/Bolton :3 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010070
Comments: 8
Kudos: 2
Collections: 'Holidays'





	Meet Me

The house was a mess when Bolton got home. Setting his bags on the kitchen table, he moved through the box filled kitchen to the living room, finding exactly what he expected. There was a clearing in the center of the room surrounded by even more boxes and totes, most open, and in the middle of the clearing sat Winnant, focusing so hard on untangling a string of Christmas lights that he didn’t even hear his fiance come in. He was concentrating so hard that the tip of his tongue was poking out of his mouth, something he constantly denied happened but Bolton loved teasing him about. Bolton leaned against the door frame, waiting to see how long it would take the other to notice him.

It took a full five minutes for Winnant to look up, a triumphant grin on his face. When he saw Bolton in the doorway, his smile brightened even more. He jumped up, almost tripping on the now untangled string of lights, and made his way carefully to the door to wrap Bolton in a massive hug, resting his chin on the shorter man’s head.

“I missed you, you’re a bit late, aren’t you?” Bolton almost felt the words more than heard them as he returned the hug. He chuckled, nuzzling his head further into Winnant’s neck.

“Yes, I’m sorry, they asked me to stay for a bit. Looks like I’ve missed all the fun, hm?” He unwrapped one arm to gesture at the mess covering the floor, and looked up just in time to see Winnant blush. 

“Well… I could still use your help.” He pulled away, staring down at the mess. “I haven’t managed to get the tree up, but I did untangle the lights. And cull the garland. Some of those strands have got to be ten years old! I threw them out, but still, we need to get rid of some things.” 

“Or maybe,” Bolton stooped down to open up what had to have been the tree box (Winnant insisted that a plastic tree would be easier and much less messy. Bolton had swept up enough of the fake needles to disagree) and shook his head. “Maybe you just need to be more organised.” Winnant opened his mouth to protest, but knew that the other was right. He huffed instead, kneeling to help pull the pieces of the tree out of the box with a slight blush on his face.

“Darling,” Winnant started once they were surrounded by the branches. “You wouldn’t mind putting this up yourself, right?” He turned an innocent smile to Bolton, who rolled his eyes. “I would help but then who would make the cookies?” 

“I suppose you’re right, of course.” He helped Winnant back up off the floor. “I’m no good in the kitchen.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Bolton had gotten the tree put together and the ornaments sorted, the whole house smelled like gingerbread and peppermint. Grinning, he added one last touch to the living room before leaning against the door frame, watching Winnant plating the cookies. Some of them were burned, but neither of them cared. They were together; they were safe. Winnant glanced over his shoulder, meeting Bolton’s smile. 

“Come get some. I know you like gingerbread fresh.” Bolton hesitated, glancing up. 

“Why don’t you bring me one?” He couldn’t help but smile wider as Winnant followed his gaze, eyes brightening a little. 

“Well, if you insist.” Winnant moved to the doorway, hair brushing against the fresh sprig of mistletoe that was now hanging there. He’d forgotten to bring a cookie, but they were too busy kissing to notice.


End file.
